


Of sound and rational minds

by AliaMael



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, M/M, So I had to write it, crack ship, i'm not even sorry, idk what happened to me but this idea wouldn't leave me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:19:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliaMael/pseuds/AliaMael
Summary: Before the Voices, Grout was not so distrustful. Before the Voices, he could appreciate the mind of others. Now, he knows he isn't safe anywhere.





	Of sound and rational minds

Grout couldn't remember how long he'd been here. He couldn't remember how he had got here, either. His arms hurt from being bent behind him. He had tried slipping out of the ropes binding him to the chair, but the knots were too tight for that. The Voices were mocking him, saying that he had it coming. He hadn't been cautious enough.

The room was too large and totally devoid of decoration. The walls were white. There were no windows, and the sole light bulb was in a lamp bolted to the ceiling. For all intent and purpose, it was a cell, albeit a strange one. It seemed a waste of space, and it lacked basic containment equipment.

He had to find a way out. Even if he couldn't escape by himself, he needed to formulate a plan so he could apply it when someone came. (If someone came.) _(If they don't let you rot here.)_

He started awake to the feel of a gentle caress on his cheek. Panic flooded him, but he pushed it down. He needed to _think_ , not to become a mindless beast.

LaCroix was just before him, looking down at him with a fond _(lying)_ smile. Grout tried to back away from the contact, in vain.

"You're officially dead now, doctor," LaCroix said.

"Release me," Grout ordered.

LaCroix walked behind him and knelt to work on unfastening the rope binding his wrists. _(He's trying to make you let your guard down.)_

"What do you want from me?" Grout asked.

LaCroix stopped for a second before going on undoing the knots.

"You already know the answer, Alistair…" he sighed.

"No," Grout denied, "I only know the lies you told me! You are a madman, LaCroix, grasping for power through unspeakable means!"

_(Don't reveal your hand like that, you fool!)_

The rope fell. Grout brought his arms in front of him, rubbing at his wrists, and LaCroix moved in front of him, between his legs, to undo the binding of his ankles. Grout watched him, fighting down the urge to reach out. He couldn't trust that man, he shouldn't…

"Alistair, you know that I'm no more a madman than you are," LaCroix gently said. "We share that lack of useless morals that allows us to aim for greatness. Where some weak minded Kindred would see cruelty in your experiments, I only see dedication to your goal. You used to think the same of even my more decried decisions. What changed?"

The ropes were gone now, replaced by LaCroix's fingers slowly stroking Grout's legs. _(It's a trap.) (It's a lie.)_ He knew it, but…

"I… I know too much, you will want to kill me…" Grout weakly answered.

"Alistair. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead already," LaCroix announced matter-of-factly. "I only want what's best for you."

"But you imprisoned me."

There seemed to be sadness in LaCroix's eyes, but it had to be an act. He was trying to give him a false sense of security. Nothing more.

"I had to keep you here to avoid you getting killed. I tried to reason with you but you wouldn't listen. Do you even remember it?"

He didn't. _(Don't listen to him.)_

"I didn't take any pleasure in having to restrain you like this. You deserve my apologies, but I cannot regret this decision. I'd rather have you hurt but alive than reduced to ashes."

LaCroix's hands were slowly, very slowly crawling up. Grout hated the way his body craved that touch. He couldn't even trust himself. It was so exhausting, doubting everything, every word, every movement, every impulse. Was it worth it?

Grout put a trembling hand on LaCroix's cheek. The Ventrue immediately leaned into it, a smile blossoming on his face. Grout brought his hand down, following the curve of LaCroix's jaw, and caressed his lips. LaCroix's eyes darkened; he gently kissed Grout's thumb, licked it, and coaxed it into his mouth to suck on it, never breaking eye contact.

One by one, the Voices dissolved into static, leaving behind only need and want.

Grout climbed down his chair and onto LaCroix's lap and kissed him, rough, desperate, urgent. LaCroix put his arms around him, gentle and firm, demanding and protective. Grout remembered, now, his admiration for the man's mind and his terrible, inescapable infatuation with his whole person.

"Sebastian…"

He was whimpering, but he didn't care. Right now, he felt _safe_. And he knew that couldn't last.

"I'm here," LaCroix answered, his lips against Grout's neck. "I won't let go of you."

"I need you. Now. _Please_."

He loathed being a slave to his body, but the shame only fueled his arousal. LaCroix kissed him, all lust and teeth, intoxicating. Grout tried to push his jacket of his shoulders before fumbling with his tie.

"Bed?" LaCroix breathed.

Somehow, they managed to get to LaCroix's bed.

In the afterglow, Grout tightened his arms around LaCroix's pliant body, needing the reassurance that it was _real_. His mind seemed clearer than it had been for the last… nights? weeks? months? He didn't know, and so he couldn't trust this feeling. Not without some proof.

"Sebastian?"

"Alistair?"

LaCroix sounded half asleep, but his voice was undeniable. His legs intertwined with Grout's were anchoring. The Voices were silent.

"What's the matter?" LaCroix went on, worry creeping in his intonation.

"I don't want to hurt you…" Grout whispered.

LaCroix tensed a tiny bit then hugged him closer.

"You won't," he affirmed.

"I'm not going to trust you for long. I will soon go back to ascribe murderous intents to your every move."

"You're a man of rational thought," LaCroix objected. "Surely you won't believe something without facts backing it?"

A sad laugh escaped Grout.

"I'm rational enough to know my own mind. The clarity I have now won't last. Alas."

"I'll still be there for you."

_(Will he really stay when he could easily get someone saner?)_

"Thank you…"

_(Yes, let him think you don't see right through him.)_

_(Watch out for his lies.)_

_(Strike first.)_


End file.
